


soliloquy for the living

by cosmicallybrownie



Category: Satan and Me (Webcomic)
Genre: Angst, F/M, One Shot, Swearing, blood mention, violence mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-06 02:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11027094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicallybrownie/pseuds/cosmicallybrownie
Summary: Natalie’s blood pooling in Lucifer’s hands haunted his thoughts, and turned his dreams to maddening fear. The only way to distance himself from her before Death does it himself, is to destroy her.





	soliloquy for the living

The gritty sand bit Lucifer’s bare legs as he sunk down into it, but he was glad for the minute pain, if only to serve as a reminder that this moment was real. That this moment was _theirs_.

 

Natalie’s eyes hadn’t left the horizon since they arrived, and the wonder was painted so plainly across her face that he swore if he touched her, she would be canvas. The watercolors of her expression bled into his own, and he could feel a smile threatening to curl the corners of his mouth when he looked at her. She was a masterpiece of his father’s own creation.

 

The ocean breeze played with loose pieces of Natalie’s hair, and when he lifted a hand to smooth a stray section back, he tensed when he saw the blackened strands among it. The sight of it stole the balmy sea air from his lungs, and replaced it with choking smoke, still smoldering from the flames. His fingers ached with shame and his mouth filled with darkness that sang of guilt and fear.

 

(He was the reason her vividness would crumble to black.)

 

As if she sensed his hesitation, Natalie pulled her hair over her shoulder, away from him – away from his damning touch. The movement exposed the expanse of her upper back, and with it, two pink scars that looked almost beautiful in their newness. The thought made his own shoulders ache in phantom want of pain. Regret tasted of fire and sea salt, and his hands trembled with such violence that he buried them in the sand, desperate to scour the soot from them.

 

The sudden motion frightened Natalie, and she had the audacity – no, the _purity_ , to look at him with concern. Genuine worry was embedded in the creases of her brow and echoed in her eyes, but all he could think about was tracing new constellations in her freckles.

 

Every look she gave him reeked of kindness and compassion and hope, and something else. Something far, far brighter that he didn’t dare name. Something he hadn’t known since heaven, since his brothers, since _before._

 

(Later he would name it love. The word ached like a weeping wound.)

 

Every moment in the length of his life was now defined by Natalie. The years that burned behind him all seemed to fade together into _before_ – before her. He was living in the now, and tasting the sweetness of innocence again so heavily that he swore he might be drunk on it.

 

(He was terrified of what it would feel like to live in the after.)

 

The sunset made Natalie’s features radiate gold, and the green in her eyes promised treasures he could never have. Being around Natalie was so easy that he swore he must have swallowed fire. She was soft and skin and blood and bone, and the overwhelming fragility of her was the most terrifying thing about her.

 

It would be so easy to lose her, so easy amidst the fire and violence that Lucifer lived in. He would be plunged helplessly into a world defined as _after,_ and the only question that still lingered in the darkest corners of his mind was _when?_

 

He would be her undoing. When she stood before him in Hell, blameless and whole – the most beautiful thing he’d seen since creation – it would be Lucifer who begged forgiveness at the crown of eternity. A million apologies on his knees would never be enough to rectify his selfishness, no words could soothe the injustice that her eyes would accuse him of. He would almost welcome it.

 

After all, leaving her would be so much easier if she hated him. If instead there was anger and bitterness behind her eyes, he could move on and count her as another poisoned soul, but she was far too compassionate to be afflicted by resentment.

 

Instead, she sat by him on an empty beach with the gentleness of the waves reflected in her gaze, and somehow that hurt worse. A boat lazily floated by, so far in the distance that it was only distinguishable by its sail and Natalie reached over and covered his hand with her own.

 

The gentle contact buzzed with electricity, and he pulled his hand away so quickly that Natalie gasped. When she turned to him with a single flash of hurt in her eyes, Lucifer stood and Natalie followed, scrambling up from her spot in the surf.    

 

The sand clung to her pale legs, and his lips trembled when he raised his gaze from her legs to meet her face.

 

“Tired of the view already?” She smiled, smiled so brightly at him that he forgot himself for a moment. He let her hands brush his again in a moment of selfish indulgence, knowing too well it may be the last time. When he pulled away, he felt so heartbreakingly empty that he could have collapsed back to the ground, but Natalie’s smile was begging for a reply.

 

He swallowed the words he wanted to say, the lighthearted quip, the outpouring of emotion, and instead said, “You have to leave. Without me.”

 

Confusion curled in her expression, “What?” She asked, then reached for his arm, “Why? I don’t understand.” The clear green of her eyes parted with storms when she frowned.

 

“You wouldn’t be able to,” Lucifer snapped, sharper than he meant, but he still stepped back and used the momentum to pull his arm out of her reach. His skin ached at the loss, and she curled her hand up against her chest with a frown.

 

“Then explain it!” She was practically shouting, “Talk to me, Lucifer. You’re my best friend.” There were tears in her eyes now, and he wished he could soothe them away. He wished he never caused them at all.

 

“No, I can’t,” He cut himself off, his words coming quickly as he braced himself for the pain he would speak into existence, “We _can’t_. We can’t be friends, I only – I only hurt you.”

 

Despair incensed across her brow and she caught his hand again, her words soft against her lips, and reverent like a prayer, “You’ve never hurt me.” She said it to herself, convincing her conscious as smoothly as his.

 

Her touched felt like a salve, and the ache that had begun behind his eyes subsided, but when he closed them, he still saw fire. His skin cooled where her fingers lingered, the rest of his body burning scarlet around her, and he was angry when he spoke, “You’ve got burns in your fucking hair and scars on your back. For fuck’s sake, you were _stabbed._ The stunt back at that warehouse could have _killed_ you, Natalie.”

 

God, he could have killed her. It would be so easy to snuff out the gentle fragility of her smiles, all it would take was a flame. He needed her to understand that; she would never allow him to leave until she could see the burns and darkness he finger painted on her skin whenever he touched her. He was by far the most dangerous part of her life, the hazard she tripped on over and over.

 

(His fall had doomed his life to emptiness and solitude. He would not see the same happen to her.)

 

The sun dipped lower on the horizon, navy creeping into the lilac sky, and Lucifer almost missed Natalie’s words among the swelling waves, “But it didn’t, I’m fine.” She pressed his hand to her heart, “I’m here.”

 

(Her heartbeat under his fingertips made something inside of him shake. A tear rolled down her cheek when he dropped his hand.)

 

If she stepped backwards, the ocean would swallow her and grin back at him. Seafoam would be the only reminder of her, and even that would fade too quickly to savor, the bubbles being pulled back to the sea in search of more souls.

 

“I _can’t_ , Natalie. You have to get away from me, I can’t be the reason you keep getting hurt.” He didn’t expect the realization to sting as much as it did, but the grit of the sand needed to be rubbed into the wound to fight the onset infection that was Lucifer.

 

Her eyes were wild then, and she grabbed handfuls of his shirt in a physical plea, begging him to stand, to stay, “It’s not your fault, please, Lucifer. I – I love –“

 

“No, Natalie.” He cut her off quickly. He couldn’t hear the end of the sentence, and his chest ached with the potential of her unspoken confession. He was too selfish to deserve her words, but he burned for them shamefully. A sniffle brought his attention back to her, and he knew he had to press her so she would understand his guilt. When he gathered his courage to speak again, it was through gritted teeth. He couldn’t meet her tear stained gaze, “You don’t understand, it _is_ my fault. It’ll always be my fault, I’m the devil. I bring death and fire with me, and I can’t drag you into it anymore.”

 

He could see where Natalie had dug white crescents into her palms with her nails, “You’ve never dragged me anywhere. Everywhere, _everywhere_ I go with you, I choose to go.”

 

The honesty of her admittance stole the breath from his lungs, and the rattle of her laugh made his knees weak. Of course she came freely, it’s what made her endless punishments for his sake so undeserved.  Natalie let herself be hurt for his sake, and the inevitably of the day she would die for him screamed warnings in his mind.

 

She had to escape from the threat his company posed, but her affection weighed upon him like a stainless veil, making his limbs heavy when he tried to push her away.

 

Lucifer was the stealer of souls, the thief and murderer of peace. He had spoken temptation into the blank canvas of the world, staining the purity red with the weight of wretched sins. It was Lucifer who doomed the world when the grounds were still virgin and new; the demise of man was authored in blood for the history books before it had even come to pass.  Natalie was fated for death at his hands long before he met her.

 

“I’m poison, Natalie. I ruin everything I touch, and I can’t – I won’t ruin you, Natalie.” The desire to shield her from himself made his fingers shake even as she reached out to hold them.

 

Gently, Natalie lifted Lucifer’s hand to her mouth, and brushed her lips against the back, “You won’t.” Her eyes never left his, and he found himself wondering if Hell would even take him back after he committed the worst sin of all.

 

(Love. It had always been love. The sweet ache of it stole his breath, and he wondered why his father had ever named it sin.)

 

Lucifer pulled his hands from her grasp tenderly, and nodded “You’re right.” He curled a strand of fire kissed hair around his finger, then cursed himself for his boundless selfishness. She smelled like sea air and kindness, and the heat of her tiny body almost seemed to burn him from the mere proximity of her. He swept his thumb along the curve of her cheek tentatively, and then he kissed her like a dying man.

 

It was almost bruising in its intensity, and when Lucifer finally broke the contact, Natalie was gasping against his lips. The passion and fury raging so clearly in Lucifer made Natalie shiver, and when he dropped his hand from her face, she mourned the loss.

 

Her grieving period didn’t last for long, and his lips pressed against hers again, softer this time. The gentle pressure seemed more like a plea, a begged apology that didn’t need Natalie’s granted acceptance to soothe Lucifer’s worry. His lips tasted like salt, but she couldn’t question it before he whispered, “ _go,”_ in her ear.

 

He squeezed her hand once, and then he was gone. The trail of his footprints teased her, and she was desperate to follow them, to stop him, but instead she watched him go. She counted the cadence of his steps in time with all the words she would have said, and she wished he hadn’t been so honest.

 

Her shoulder blades ached in a way that made the blood flowing beneath her scars feel fresh and raw again. A shaky exhale escaped from her lips when Natalie pressed her hand to the throbbing scar on her stomach, and she thanked the stars above that blood wasn’t leaking from between her fingers. Natalie could count on one hand the injuries she had endured before Lucifer, but since knowing him, she stopped counting the number of times she bled for him.

 

(He never asked her to, she always volunteered. Always willing.)

 

But now Lucifer had left her in the most beautiful place she had ever seen. The sand was cold against her feet, the winds sharp and irritating as the whole beach was tainted with the sideways heartbreak of loneliness. She didn’t blink when Lucifer walked away, for Natalie feared that if she did, the footsteps he left would be gone, along with all the memories of him that Natalie had tucked into her heart.

 

He could never be poison to her, he seemed far more like a balm for her wounds, even if they were inflicted for his sake.

 

(His words hurt more than all the burns and scars she wore on her body, their rawness like badges of honor. She wished he could understand that.)

 

When she fell asleep that night, she tasted loneliness for the first time in months, and her sobs were the only company she carried through the night. Living alone seemed far worse than dying with company.

 

(Please, God, don’t let her die alone.)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was a prize for my 1,000 follower giveaway on tumblr! This fic is dedicated to http://papalogia.tumblr.com/ on tumblr!! They asked for angst, and I delivered.


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